


Reflection

by willowwand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drabble, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-12
Updated: 2007-08-12
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:25:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowwand/pseuds/willowwand
Summary: Grief is a powerful thing.





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

I found him under the willow tree out by the pond.

“Ron?”

He hastily wiped his face on his sleeve, his voice hoarse. “Yeah?”

“Would you like some company?”

He nodded, keeping his face turned away from me. The grass tickled my bare legs as I gingerly sat down beside him. For a while there was silence as we both stared out at the tiny pond, watching the clouds reflected in its placid surface.

“It was a nice ceremony,” I said, my words feeling hollow and inadequate.

“He would have hated it,” Ron said. “The dress robes, the long, boring eulogy, Mum crying...”

I felt a lump rise in my throat and stole a glance at him. His eyes were bloodshot and shining with unshed tears.

“He—” Ron’s voice broke. “He taught me how to fly, you know. He and George.”

“I didn’t—”

Ron went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “They thought it would be better if I learned over the pond, that way if I fell off, I wouldn’t get hurt and they wouldn’t get in trouble.” Ron smiled slightly. “But I didn’t know how to swim. So when I fell in, Fred had to jump in and get me.”

He looked up at me, looking lost, not bothering to hold back the tears now streaking down his cheeks. “It’s never… never going to be the same again, is it?”

“Oh, Ron.”

And I held him, feeling his tears soak the shoulder of my blouse, his sobs shaking his body as he clung tightly to me.


End file.
